


Falling Behind

by Absolutely_Barbaric



Series: Fever February [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fainting, Fever, Fever February, Hurt/Comfort, Illness/injury, M/M, Nightmares, No Noctis because I'm not a fan of him there I said it, Uhhh just a whole lot of suffering my friend, Whump, but still, is that a tag?, sick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-21 06:18:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13734927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Absolutely_Barbaric/pseuds/Absolutely_Barbaric
Summary: (Fever February, Day 6: Fever Dreams)Overtired and overwhelmed, Prompto's shortcomings catch up to him in his nightmares.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> These prompt(o)s are more out of order than a vending machine but it's getting there. For all the days, check out https://mugenthesickfic.tumblr.com/post/170469673461/introducing-fever-february and get inspired!
> 
> Is it bad to never let the crew sleep? ...Maybe.

Nothing could beat a campfire at the end of a long day. Or, few days. There was the patient wait filled with jokes and laughter for nothing short of 5-star cooking, the cool breeze in the air, and the lulling, gentle crackles from the fire that brought him closer and closer to sleep-

 

It was almost painful for Prompto's heavy eyelids to shoot open. Tsking under his breath, he gave his cheeks a few weak slaps before resigning with his head hung, knowing full well he couldn't keep this up, and that everyone else knew full well too.

 

"If you keep nodding off like that, you'll fall face first into that fire." Just as expected, Ignis's warning pierced through his exhausted fog. He stiffened.

 

"Go get some rest already," Gladio agreed. "No point dozing off out here."

 

"It's cool, really," He could feel the quiet that fell over them just reeking of a faux pas, as they hadn't at all meant for it to be open for discussion. "You and Iggy have been up for way longer."

 

"You don't drink Ebony." Once more, he stiffened at the dismissal in Gladio's voice. If he pressed on, he was sure to get anger, too. They were already eyeing him like they were getting ready for another battle.

 

"It's about to start raining, anyway. Neither of us are going to stay out here for much longer," Ignis added calmly. But even his sympathy was useless; Prompto simply shook his head, ignoring the straining ache that it put on his neck.

 

"Yeah, you are..."

 

It was their turn to stiffen up, passing a glance at each other with hesitance weighing heavy upon them. "Maybe I don't drink that nasty stuff, but that just proves that I can stay awake even without it, doesn't it? Besides, I  _like_ rain. I can't ev-" A decent outburst was prepared, but the cough burning in his chest cut him off from that, too. His own body felt like it was trying to shut him down, and it was driving him crazy while he could do nothing but hack into the crook of his elbow.

 

"You're exhausted, Prompto. You're not yourself."

 

"He better not be," Gladio muttered. Just being talked back to was already getting to be this huge ordeal, and that was just the problem, as Prompto was dying to point out behind his raw throat. Ignis could say anything he wanted to him, Noct gave him orders, wasn't it obvious who was at the bottom of the totem pole here? He wanted to say that, but he wouldn't have had the chance even if his coughing ceased. Gladio's expression had changed, and so had Ignis's.

 

"Are you all right?" It wasn't as if he was planning on trusting an answer anyway. He'd stripped off one glove for the sake of pressing his hand too forcefully against Prompto's forehead, and the only fight he could manage back was tiredly holding onto his wrist. "As I thought," Ignis said. "He's burning up, Gladio."

 

"Why are you telling him that instead of me...?"

 

"Well, that's 'cause he needs rest. Let him sleep in tomorrow morning and he'll be good as new," Gladio shrugged.

 

"I'm  _literally_ right here."

 

"I don't think it's just that," Ignis continued. "It could be an upper respiratory-"

 

"I'm  _sick_ of being a kid to you!" He lamented the impact lost on his wobbly legs when he jumped up rather than bravely standing tall like he was hoping to, but that was the sacrifice that had to be made. They wouldn't see him any differently anyway. Unfortunately, he wasn't able to put much fierceness into his words either, only coming up with a cracking whine that could only succeed in proving the point against him. " _That's_ what I'm sick with! I'm just- Who else would you ignore right in front of them? Do you think I'm like, four years old? I- I  _know_ you're just looking out for me, I just..."

 

Already, he was regretting it all. Just hearing himself made him cringe, and not because of the thick gravel in his voice. He had no doubt that this had done nothing but cement his position as the baggage, tag-along, total fourth wheel, if that even made sense. Not a whole lot of things where actually making sense.

 

"I just..."

 

That was right, he realized. Not a lot of things were making sense. Like at what point he began holding onto both of Ignis's arms, or when his body became lighter than a feather. He did feel feverish. He felt a lot of terrible things, but numbly. Even his hearing was numb.

 

"Iggy, I didn't mean..."

 

"Is it cold enough? Here, hold him steady. I've got it."

 

And once again, they were ignoring him. He didn't know if he actually said anything or just thought it in his head, but they were probably ignoring him. The support he was holding onto disappeared all of a sudden, yet returned at his back much firmer this time, holding him from behind in a way he wasn't sure how to process. It just felt floaty, like he was in space except it wasn't cool or fun at all, and he'd rather come back down whenever he could.

 

With a sudden dampness at his neck, he recognized the sensation of a wet strip of cloth, and the tenderness that could only belong to Ignis's hands, since Gladio had rather carelessly tended to a scrape or two of his before. It was beyond relief, but he was still floating enough to give him motion sickness. Or just regular sickness, he pondered, but either way, it hit him too hard to think about it before something shaky was pressing against his mouth. Useless; whatever sickness came up anyway and spilled over his pitifully trembling hand, and likely onto someone else as well, judging by the cloth jerking back.

 

" _Holy-_ " Gladio's hold on him disappeared too, leaving his jello reincarnation of a body stranded against what felt to be the heaviest gravity he'd ever experienced. He staggered forward, then back.

 

"He's going to fall," Ignis warned, " _Gladio_ -"

 

He couldn't have cut it closer. Just as Prompto's legs gave way, he grabbed underneath his arms and knelt there, stunned, equally trying to process all that'd happened in too short a moment. It seemed for once, even Ignis was having trouble finding something to say, and instead fell quiet while the cloth remained frozen in his hand. He held his breath for a second, then knelt as well, ultimately finding no signs of consciousness after giving his shoulder a half-hearted shake.

 

"...I think it's more than just a fever."

 

"Yeah. I'm starting to think that, too."


	2. Chapter 2

Floaty...His body was still floaty.

 

He thought that would have stopped by now, but it felt like he was levitating rather than lying down. That was only if he could use the term  _feel_ loosely, since he wasn't as aware of his limbs as he'd like to be. All he knew was that he felt floaty, and he needed to get up.

 

Sucking in a sharp breath through his teeth, Prompto set a hand behind himself and sat up as best as he could, finding it more difficult to pierce his gaze through the dark than usual. It'd never  _been_ this dark before. Yet, dark as it was, a few things could be made out rather easily, as if there was a glow around them. Behind him was his pillow, next to him was a nest of ditched blankets that must have been tossed off at some point throughout the night...And in front of him was Ignis with his back turned, too rigidly stood to be anything but disturbing. He was usually pretty statuesque, but not so... _literally_.

 

" _Iggy_ ," he tried, instead finding that while his lips moved, the words didn't seem to come out. For one reason or another, that was the last of his priorities. "Dude, I think...I think I just had a really weird dream. I don't know what it was about- Can you even hear me?"

 

It felt off. Like he'd just frozen time, but worse somehow. He tried again.

 

"It's freaky...I feel like it was the worst nightmare ever, but I don't even know what it was about. Did I- ...When did I fall asleep?"

 

"Is that what you call it?"

 

Prompto blinked, too perplexed to say a word back. For a second there, he didn't know if he was being ignored again, but who else would Ignis be talking to? Maybe himself, he guessed, if it wasn't right after he'd been asked a direct question. "What do you mean, the nightmare?" he asked. "Er...Yeah, I think so. Like a bad dream. I don't really understand...anything." He tapered off into laughter, but that was short lived. Ignis wasn't laughing.

 

"Well, that's quite all right, Prompto. No one expects you to understand in the first place."

 

This was getting out of hand. It didn't seem like a joke- Ignis didn't  _make_ those kinds of jokes, or at least not like this. Did he?

 

" _Oh_..." he said softly. "You're mad about last night...?" If anything, he just wished Ignis would move a little bit. He didn't react to a single word, nor did he budge when he spoke himself. Disturbing, but he just didn't have the energy to question it. "I'm sorry...I was acting like a total loser. It's just, you and Gladio, you guys are like role models to me. Noct, too...All the time, I- I'm _dreaming_ about being someone with something to admire, but that's just it. It's just a...a dream." A dream that kept going wrong, like a weird nightmare. He gave a weak scoff. "Pretty pathetic, isn't it...?"

 

"It is," Ignis said. "Pretty pathetic."

 

His voice was so cold, Prompto drew the blanket up over his chest and shrank back into it, but he felt like he couldn't get away. Was he  _trying_ to get away? This was Ignis. He thought it was...But it was off, all of it was.

 

"Everything's wrong," he whispered, shivering from the icy cold that radiated from his friend. He brought his knees up to his chest. "C-Can you just...get away from me...?"

 

"No," Gladio snapped-  _Gladio?_ Prompto's breath caught in his throat, his nails digging into the blankets that pulled over his face. Gladio wasn't in here, but that was his voice. He was really going crazy, wasn't he? That was why he snapped at them last night. That was why he was such a loser to begin with, because he was crazy. "Everyone else is doing fine.  _You're_ wrong. Without you, it would all be fine."

 

Even worse than Gladio's voice were the footsteps coming closer to him, striking terror in his rapidly beating heart that wanted to flee from his chest altogether. The closer Ignis, or Gladio, or  _they_ got, the more freezing he became until he felt frozen solid, unable to pull away when his wrist was seized. His barcode- He could just _feel_ the eyes on it, scanning him with terrible disapproval.

 

"If you're so insecure, why would you expect us to disagree?"

 

"Please don't look at that," Prompto shuddered. "Please don't look at that..."

 

"You talk about feeling sub par, yet you expect us to tell you differently? That's absurd. You're wasting our time by fishing for compliments and sympathy."

 

His teeth were starting to chatter. Despite that, it was getting warmer, far warmer far too quickly, and it was making his heartbeat all the more rampant. He felt as though the stare invading him was burning him up from the inside out. No matter how painfully the hand at his wrist scorched him, he was trembling too madly to get out a word of defense. Not that he really had anything to say. It was all true, wasn't it? That he was just fishing for sympathy. Wasting time.

 

"That's right," Ignis hissed. "You are wasting our time. Why don't  _you_ get away from us, Prompto?"

 

He'd never heard him sound so menacing to anyone. Grappling with the very next breath that choked him in his throat, he tried to get his body to move, but it was doing no such thing. His bones were still frozen, or melted, he couldn't tell which was where or who was who. Panic was infesting him either way, and he couldn't move away from that, either. No matter how badly he wanted to get away, he was stuck here in this dream, shutting his eyes tight and begging his lungs for just one good breath before he knew he would suffocate.

 

"Prompto? ... _Prompto._ "

 

The only thing he could hear from himself was gasping. His chest rose and stuttered like something was trying to tear out of it, his heart probably- A desperate whimper came tremoring out of his grit teeth, putting upon him the absolute worst of helplessness. He  _was_ the worst of helplessness.

 

" _Prompto_ , wake up. Prompto!"

 

Ignis's words struck like a crash of lightening, and suddenly he was able to shoot up to where he thought he was already sitting, to his horror waking up all over again.


	3. Chapter 3

" _Prompto_ , wake up. Prompto!"

 

The panicked cry that stuck to what remained of his vocal cords made it all the worse when he jerked up from where he lay, sending a horrid spread of tender aches through his entire body. His head was definitely full of rocks, and this time that wasn't a joke. All he could think about was the very real pain, second to that being what felt like barely an escape from some pit of his worst fears.

 

And thank  _goodness_ the pain was real.

 

Minutes passed before he could catch up to his quivering breath, but he certainly wasn't floating anymore. No, even though he would take this over floating, his muscles felt heavier than he remembered, worse off in his thudding skull. While the surface of his skin crawled with bad memory, he could sense something next to him thawing that frigid fear; Ignis was holding onto him, firmly. Through his hands, he almost felt his own adrenaline.

 

" _...your mouth._ Do you hear me?"

 

Reality, definitely the real reality, was sinking in slow, but he was thankful to get his senses back, even if they hurt. "W-What...?" he panted out, digging his nails into his palm and feeling nothing. It was then he realized that it was the back of Ignis's hand clutching his, unwavering but not solid like he was in his dream.

 

"Breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth," he repeated. His voice was clearer this time, but there was a fog that couldn't be gotten rid of. In his best attempt to focus, Prompto did as he was asked, struggling a bit with the thickness in his throat but calming down nevertheless, even if just by a little bit.

 

"I think I got it," he finally said, attempting a laugh at the expense of himself. Ignis didn't laugh back. At that he tensed up again, but he could see clearer than before, with it finding softness in Ignis's eyes that brought immediate guilt. Hanging his head, he let go one final drawn out breath, too embarrassed to look at him. "I'm okay..." he murmured. "I- I'm good."

 

"You're not 'good'," Ignis countered. "You've been running a temperature all night. I wanted to let you sweat it out, but  _this_ one kept cooling you off when I wasn't looking." Bewildered, Prompto followed his gaze, surprised to find there was another party standing under the tent the whole time.

 

"You were whimpering," Gladio mumbled. "I couldn't really help it."

 

He flushed at that, lowering his head again to think. 'All night'...They'd been here for a while. Even though they'd already been up for so long....How badly had he been worrying them?

 

As if he could see the gears turning in his head, Ignis squeezed his hand to pull him out of the nightmare he was falling back into. "Gladio heard you apologizing in your sleep," he mentioned softly. "About last night...?"

 

Prompto swallowed, forgetting again that it was excruciating to do so. He didn't know if it was the last or only thing he wanted to talk about. The conversation was up though, so there wasn't a whole lot he could do to avoid it. "Yeah," he eventually gave in. "I...I was stupid. For going off on you guys like that and all. I was being a huge baby, and-"

 

Another roar of thunder shut him up quick, his eyes flashing to find the source of it. Of course- there was a storm outside. He thought that was a part of his dream, too.

 

Again, Ignis squeezed his hand tight. "Your body was pushed past its limits," he reminded him, "It's only natural that your mind would suffer as well. That being said, I don't think you were truly in the wrong there. We should have listened closer to you before it came to all this." The ominous rumbling outside began to go quiet. To Prompto's surprise, the sound of heavy rain was actually relaxing. "It's all right, anyways," he assured. "There's no need to apologize."

 

"Ignis..." The relief was immeasurable after seeing a whole other version of these events. Just hearing the real him made it easy to forget the burning all around his face or the freezing of his extremities. "Thanks, really...It's nice to hear."

 

"You were being kind of a baby, though."

 

" _Gladio,_ " came Ignis's sharp reprimand, almost on cue. At that, he felt free enough to laugh again, snickering behind his hand until it became a fit of coughing instead. Digging his hand into the many blankets to steady himself, he leaned towards Ignis's side and fought to regain his breath again, his shoulders shaking while he waited for it to pass.

 

"You gonna be sick again?" Gladio asked, hesitantly offering a bucket. He shook his head.

 

"Nah, I'm good," He wiped the sweat from his neck, head reeling from the wheezing aftereffects. "Oh- Uh...Guess I ruined your shirt, huh, Iggy...?" The man offered a sympathetic smile back.

 

"I have others," he shrugged. "Nothing a little shopping spree can't fix."

 

"That's good..." As slowly as the world faded in when he woke up, he worried that it was fading out, that he might return back to worse dreams. What if  _this_ was still a dream? No matter what it was, he couldn't fight much to stay present either way, relaxing against the hand at his back until he suddenly realized he was lying down now. Not only that, but there was another hand at his forehead. Keeping his eyes open was proving to be more of a challenge by the second.

 

"Your fever is still high," Ignis murmured thoughtfully. "Try and get some sleep if you can."

 

"I think he can," Gladio chuckled. "Look at him."

 

Sure enough, he was fast asleep again before anyone could speak another word to him, restfully breathing in and out through his mouth. Ignis found himself laughing as well, not surprised after all that he could only stay awake for so long when he was this sick. He would probably wake up again later, and they would be here. They wouldn't have their backs turned either, as he feared in his mind's darkest worries. He could only hope Prompto knew that before slipping away again. With a wishful sigh, he brought the assortment of blankets back up to his neck, tucking him in tightly to them with decent precision for how tired he himself was.

 

"Still think we should let him sweat it out?" Gladio asked.

 

"It's for his own good. He'll get better much faster this way."

 

Softly, a whimper rose from Prompto's lips.

 

"...Hand me the ice pack."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ended up way longer than I expected. I didn't think there would be chapters :O But because of lots of support, I was really happy writing all of it! Mama Ignis and Daddy Gladi give life to this person who is already dead...


End file.
